


On the Dotted Line

by writing2death



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-04
Updated: 2011-05-04
Packaged: 2017-10-18 23:08:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/194311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writing2death/pseuds/writing2death
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"What are you doing?" Reid smiles against his neck, “I'm tracing my name,” he says.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On the Dotted Line

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the prompt _writing (e-mail and IM; tracing words on skin). Hotch/Reid._ on ansera's [kink meme: IV](http://ansera.livejournal.com/52793.html). Originally posted [here](http://ansera.livejournal.com/52793.html?thread=2469177#t2469177). Thanks to wren_hightower for the title.

When Hotch wakes up, he’s surprisingly warm and comfortable. It’s surprising not because he doesn’t usually wake up warm, because he does, but the comfortable and relaxed part is new.

And so is the body stretched out next to him, pressed against his back.

He pictures Reid’s hair being tufted up on one side and the pillow leaving crease marks on his face, sleepy and affectionate despite his small aversion to touching. Hotch feels something warm curl in his stomach, and closes his eyes.

Reid makes a soft sound behind him to let Hotch know he’s awake and presses his lips to the back of his neck, like a chaste kiss.

Hotch closes his eyes in contentment as Reid runs his fingers down his side. “What are you doing?”

Reid smiles against his neck, “Tracing my name,” he says. “S.P.E.N.C.E.R,” he spells out slowly, fingers lightly dancing across Hotch’s ribs. He sounds childishly happy.

Then he pauses like he’s second-guessing himself, and rubs over the spot as if he’s erasing it. “Not that… you’re mine now or anything. I didn’t mean it like that.”

Hotch rolls over so that he’s facing Reid. His hair is mussed up, and his face is crinkled from the pillow, just like he pictured. He’s also kind of flushed, but Hotch isn’t sure if it’s from sleep or embarrassment.

“And if I want to be yours?” he asks seriously but smiling a little as Reid’s lips part slightly, like he’s not sure what exactly to do with that information.

“That’s –“ Reid starts, but stops as Hotch traces _Aaron_ into the middle of his back. His breath hitches slightly. “That’s – “ he tries again, “I like that.”

“Good,” Hotch says. “Me too.”


End file.
